


Around the Corner

by scheherazade



Category: Tenimyu RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 17:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scheherazade/pseuds/scheherazade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Takigawa Eiji has no sense of direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Around the Corner

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime during 2010. Why does anyone let me and [acchikocchi](archiveofourown.org/users/acchikocchi) talk to each other.

Kimeru watched Takigawa lead the way down the street. That fact alone was slightly worrying. "Should we ask for directions maybe?"

"No, no, I've got it."

A pause. "We should ask for directions."

"It's just around the corner. Last time I came here—"

"Was three years ago." 

"You had longer hair."

"What?"

"That time, right? The store clerk thought you were a woman."

"Right."

"Been a while."

"Which is why we should ask for directions?"

"No, I'm just saying. You've cut your hair."

"And people still mistake me for a woman."

"Really?"

"A guy on the train tried to feel me up."

"Who?"

"Huh?"

"Which guy on the train?"

"How am I supposed to know? One of the suits, probably. It's always that type."

"Your type?"

"My what?"

"Suits?"

It took Kimeru a second to parse the last exchange. "Oh, come on. When have I ever gone for a salaryman?"

Takigawa gave him a blank look. 

After five solid seconds of silence during which they'd come to a complete stop halfway down a shady side street, Kimeru realized something. "That was a rhetorical question."

"I know."

"…okay. Good."

They resumed walking. 

"So did he?" Takigawa asked.

"Did who?"

"The guy. Did he like, actually?"

"…you've lost me."

"Don't they notice when—you know? You've got good pecs."

"Thanks?"

"Definitely not a woman."

"Are we still talking about the train?"

Takigawa didn't answer straightaway. "I'm making you uncomfortable."

"No. I mean. I brought it up. Sorry."

He knew better than to wait for a protest, a polite denial to break the lull in conversation. Takigawa could be incredibly old-fashioned and incredibly alien at the same time, always with the quirks that completed the fact of him. Misfiring lines and a moseying pace. It was always like this when they went out — for dinner, drinks. And maybe something else, if he let himself read into it. You could never really tell, with Takigawa. The man cruised through situations by being a law unto himself.

Kimeru could call these "dates" in his own head, though, if he wanted. Nobody had ever said otherwise. And nobody had pushed him away yet, either.

"You all right?" Takigawa asked.

"I'm fine."

"You made a face."

"Just thinking about something."

"Books?"

"What?"

"When we went to the bookstore that time. You kept complaining your feet were going to fall off."

"That's because you had us walking around for two hours even though you said it was 'right around the corner'!"

"It _was_ around the corner." Takigawa started laughing. "Just the wrong corner."

"Everything's around the wrong corner for you."

"Seriously. I know where this restaurant is."

"So does the tourist office."

"Have some pride!"

"Yes, buchou."

Takigawa mimed pushing glasses up his nose. Kimeru grinned and watched him nearly take the wrong turn for the third time in as many minutes.

They did find the restaurant, eventually. The clock behind the front desk read 8:35. Miraculously, their reservation hadn't been cancelled yet.

"Good thing we only do this about once a year," Kimeru laughed, after they'd sat down and Takigawa was perusing the menu. "Starving artists shouldn't come to places like this."

"If they're starving, wouldn't they want to?"

"Only if they have famous models treating them."

"Of course."

That made Kimeru pause. "I was kidding."

"But I asked you. That's how it works, right?"

"Is it?" He kept his voice light. "Wow. I haven't been on a real date in a while."

"Me neither." Takigawa's face was oddly serious. The joke seemed to have gone right over his sky-scraping head. "I never got to ask you properly, before."

Kimeru let his hands slip from the edge of the table down into his lap. _Don't grip the seat edge,_ he told himself. That always made his shoulders hunch.

Takigawa was still looking at him with that serious expression.

"Eiji-san. We're not on a date."

"How come?"

"Well…" In for a penny. "You never asked."

"But I called you."

"Yeah, and the first time, _I_ called _you_."

"You were reminding me I'd promised to treat you because of the party, wasn't it?"

"And you agreed."

"Yeah."

"So maybe it was my way of asking."

A pause. "Eh?"

Kimeru studied Takigawa's face. Seven years ago, it might have been confusion, anxiety, frustration twisting his stomach. Now he just felt sort of tired, as if Takigawa had lead him on another wild goose chase for a bookstore that didn't exist. "You really had no idea?"

"Of what?"

"I figured you'd hear it through the grapevine at some point. Takashi can't keep a secret from Tuti, and Tuti can't keep a secret, period. You know, one time this fan sent him a letter and h—"

"Wait. Tuti?"

"They all knew. Well, except Naoya maybe."

"What's Tuti got to do with anything?"

Kimeru shrugged. Seven years, and the words still twisted on his tongue. So he smiled instead. "Never mind. It's not important."

"Are you saying I should have asked before? I could have?"

"But _would_ you have?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'?"

"You've made it very clear you know I'm a guy, despite the hair and everything."

"Yeah, well. Of course."

"So why?"

"Aren't you attracted to me?"

Of all the responses Kimeru might have once expected, rehearsed, turned over and over in his head — that was never one of them. "Um," he said, very eloquently.

Takigawa frowned. "What do you mean _despite_ the hair?" 

"What?"

"Do you dress like a woman on purpose?"

"I don't—you just said I look like a man!"

The waiter chose that moment to appear and ask if they were ready, or if they needed any recommendations to help them decide? Kimeru belatedly realized that he hadn't even opened his menu. Takigawa noticed, and ordered for them both.

That taken care of, their previous conversation returned in the form of a limping silence.

"Yanagi called the other day," Kimeru tried.

Takigawa didn't seem to hear. "Do they all know?"

"Know what?"

"That you do that because you thought I'd like you as a woman."

"It's not all about you," Kimeru snapped before he could help himself. And now he really wouldn't be able to backpedal out of this. "And it doesn't matter. They probably think this is just how gay men dress."

"But you said only Naoya doesn't know."

"That was about the other thing."

"What other thing?"

"That…" Kimeru forced his jaw to unclench. "It was just a crush. It's been years."

A long silence followed. He looked to the side, past the edge of their table and to the rest of the shop. It was about half-full. Apparently a popular spot for well-dressed young men and their pretty, simpering dates. 

"You're making me confused, you know," Takigawa said finally.

Kimeru swallowed a nervous laugh. "Seeing as you're trying to ask _me_ out on a date, _yes, clearly_."

"Did you not want me to?"

"That's not the point."

Silence again. Then Takigawa muttered _huh,_ as if coming to a realization. Kimeru hoped it was the right one. 

"Since the food's going to take forever anyway," Takigawa said. "I know you're a man. I guess you do confuse people sometimes, but since I already know, it doesn't confuse _me_. And that's what I really like, okay?"

Kimeru stared. "Okay?"

"So that's settled?"

"That's—no, hang on." Kimeru resisted the urge to tug at his hair. He pressed his fingers to his temples instead, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. "What are you saying?"

"I like you. It doesn't matter to me if you look like a woman."

Kimeru opened his eyes. Takigawa was leaning forward with his arms on the table, hands folded as if attending lessons. It should have looked absurd on a 6'1" grown man with the physique of a minor deity, but somehow it just…suited him. Nothing about this was making much sense.

"But you're _straight_."

"Obviously not, if we're having this conversation."

"I can't believe we're having this conversation."

"We can talk about something else if you—"

"No!"

"Okay."

"Sorry," Kimeru said after an awkward pause.

"Don't be."

"I just. Why now, suddenly? Like you said, we've…gone out. Before. But you never said anything."

"I wasn't sure if it was okay."

"It's been _years_."

"I'm slow."

"You really didn't know."

"I didn't."

"So what changed?"

"Well…" Takigawa made a sheepish hmm'ing sound. "You know how we used to feel bad for Souta because Naoya was oblivious? That whole summer, and it was funny for a while. But actually Naoya knew."

"He—" Kimeru blinked. "You're kidding."

"No, really. We went drinking last week, and he started talking about it suddenly, and all I could think was 'poor Souta.' That's basically being pocket vetoed."

"Pocket veto?"

"I mean, if he knew all along, right? And he told me that I shouldn't do that."

"Do what?"

"To you."

"To— …oh."

"So."

Kimeru took a moment to let his world rearrange itself. "So Naoya knew. About everything?"

"We might owe him an apology."

"Or a thanks."

That got him another blank look. Just as Kimeru was starting to worry that he'd missed the meaning entirely, Takigawa's expression cleared. "So it's okay then?"

"Yeah. It's okay."

Takigawa grinned and leaned forward conspiratorially. "Do I get a song on your next album?"

Kimeru laughed. Leave it to Takigawa to pull a conversation down the rabbit hole. He tossed his hair. "I'll have you know, Eiji-san, I never put out like that until at least the third dat— oh crap."

The waiter, to his credit, didn't hesitate or in any way acknowledge the deathtrap of awkward he'd just walked into. Kimeru manfully resisted the urge to slide under the table. Takigawa turned his head aside to hide a laugh. 

The waiter set their food down and gave a polite bow. "Enjoy." He left quickly. Kimeru wished the same could be said of the blush staining his face. 

"Very unladylike of you," Takigawa snickered. 

Kimeru threw a napkin at him. "Shut up. You like it."

"I know."

So he did. And he'd been right, too, about all of it. There was a first time for everything, Kimeru supposed.

"You still owe me a game of billiards," Takigawa said next.

Then again, some things never changed.


End file.
